Love, Lost
by Kay Celestine
Summary: He knew the saying, how it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. He hated it with a passion. The one thing he never understood was why he was miserable, when everyone else around him had their happy ending. Sally/Apollo
1. Prologue: Memories

**Love, Lost**

**by. KayCelestine**

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**Prologue:**

**.x ****Memories**** x.**

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_All of my memories keep you near_  
_ In silent moments,_  
_ Imagining you here..._

_Together in all these memories, _  
_I see your smile._  
_All of the memories I hold dear. _  
_Darling you know I'll love you, _  
_Til the end of time._

- "Memories", Within Temptation_  
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**Present Day**

He couldn't forget her, no matter how hard he had tried. She rested on his thoughts day and night, consuming his very being. The more he tried to resist, the greater she would become, till the constant tug-of-war at his heartstrings proved too much and he gave up. He hadn't meant to fall in love with her, just to help her. That's all it was, an act of good will. But yet, that act of good will had turned against him. His intentions grew from helpful to love. He never tried to stop it, after all, how could he have known the turn it would take? It had happened so fast... he was sure Aphrodite was out for blood when she did it. Nothing good could have ever come out of it. Nothing good ever _did_ come out of it. For a while, it seemed, things were going his way. Life had suddenly taken on a new meaning. But... that was his mistake, nothing is ever really that happy. Not for him anyway. There was always a catch, or a flaw. History had proven that time and time again. But, he didn't want to believe it. For once in his life, he wanted to embrace it... just for once. Was that too much to ask? Yes, apparently it was.

If heartache was company, Apollo would never be alone. It was with him at all times, when he woke, when we slept, when he laughed, when he smiled. Heartache wasn't just company, it was like oxygen for him. He breathed it at every moment. He had grown so accustomed to it, that the dull pain had just become a part of him, as natural to him as breathing. It just always was. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt free, that he had felt truly_ happy_. The pain was etched so deep, it provided no clue to the life it once held. He was shrouded, covered in his own lies and denial -- until it became a mask for him. He wore it dutifully, hiding any trace of his emotions. But somewhere along the way, it was no longer a mask, it had become him -- it _was_ him. But no one knew.... no one ever did. They never cared, never wanted to know. And he was fine with that. The less interference, the better it would be to cope. No one to try and cheer him up -- to try and tell him how he was feeling, how he was coping, or not, for that matter. Peace -- he would have it, no matter the cost.

Apollo trudged along, his company the empty park. He strode silently through the snow, cursing under his breath. The snowflakes fell to the ground softly, surrounded him like a blanket. He_ hated_ it. He hated everything about it -- the snow, the cold, the darkness, the silence. It was just there, _taunting_ him, _mocking_ him and he hated it. He had always hated winter, it was natural. He was the sun god; sunlight, brightness, and heat were all his forte -- his life sources, if you may. Yet here he was, surrounded by everything opposite of him. Winter was Artemis' turf, her specialty. Apollo stumbled slightly in the snow, and proceeded to curse some more, this time at Hades. This was after all, his fault. Stupid lust... not even love, _lust_. Immediately Apollo felt the lump form in his throat. That's what she had said when he had asked her opinion on the matter. She laughed, her brown hair flowing around her as she openly mocked the situation. That was her -- lively, bright, and unafraid.

He stopped, allowing the memory to wash through him; he knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it. He never could. Letting go was never his strong suit. Next to Zeus and Hera, he probably had the most pride out of all the gods. It was natural; being a god, he was used to having his own way. He was _Apollo_. Fuck, Poseidon -- he was definitely more rebellious than the sea god. He had done whatever he wanted, when he wanted. If it wasn't for his mother's pleading, he would be in Tartarus right now, not an empty Central Park. Gods know that Zeus was poised to send him every time. His actions had warranted it, but yet he got off every time. He was spoiled... that was a fact. A fact that hadn't changed within the past thousand years.

It was her who had led him here... her memory. He hadn't meant to remember her, he had been trying not to. That's why he had chosen the destination he had --- a noisy, bustling mall. The noise was supposed to distract him, and it had been working. The plan was to become to consumed in making through the halls in one piece, that his mind had no time to wander. Despite it being winter, he had decided to take a stroll in New York. He was tired, exhausted from being cooped up in Olympus so long. So against himself, he decided he should get out and explore. Plus, Christmas was just around the corner. Mortals pushed past him, rushing to finish their last minute shopping. That had always annoyed him... how the mortals procrastinated so viciously. For Zeus's sake, they had an entire _season_ to prepare. Yet, every year here they were, pushing and shuffling to finish what they should have months ago. Despite this, Christmas had always been his favorite mortal holiday. It amused him, the idea of this man shuffling through chimneys' to give children presents. Saint Nick they called him. He couldn't help but inwardly chuckle as he remembered the origins of Nick. _Oh Hermes, look what you started_, he thought amused to himself.

Artemis hated Christmas; in her mind, it was a senseless holiday that did nothing but insert false hopes into the unsuspecting children. She hated it even more that is was in _her_ season. The way she figured, the children were only being set up for the letdown. Apollo thought differently; he loved the idea of hope that it brought. The way people went out their way for others during this holiday. Not to mention the comical aspect of it. The parents telling their children to be good or Santa won't bring them any presents never ceased to bring a smile to his face. The really funny part however, was how no matter who this was said to, or what the child was doing, they would instantly freeze. And from that point on, they would be nothing short of angels. That was his favorite part. Artemis would always scoff and look at him in disdain and then proceed to tell him how if he liked it so much, he should make it a summer holiday. But as much as he hated winter, he agreed that Christmas, just wouldn't be Christmas without the annoying cold or the pestering snowflakes. That's why he had always preferred to celebrate Christmas in the more tropical places. Not the typical "White Christmas" but it was warm, and he'd just have to make do.

It was one of those misbehaving children that brought back the memories. Forgetting her, even for a moment, was a near impossible task. Remembering her on the other hand, was as easy as making a dozen bulls eyes at a close range. He was forgetting, his mind focused on the crowd, rather than the person. But then he saw it. _It_ was a little raven haired boy about two or three years old. He had been with his mother, a fairly young person herself. He threw himself on the floor, much to the chagrin of the passerby's', blocking them and potentially endangering himself. He wailed and thrashed and screamed, his mother frantically begging him to behave, or at least stand up. That was all. He stood there watching, the harsh nudges of the rushing buyers oblivious to him. Just watching as the situation unfolded before him. Just like that, he remembered, and just like that, he rather wished he hadn't.

Apollo kicked the snow angrily. Five days. Five fucking days. Five days in all, that's how long it had lasted. It took five days to fall in love with her, and ten years to try and forget her. In five days he been to hell and back. In five days his heart had been bursting and then torn -- shredded, calloused. In four days he had been in heaven... and on the fifth day, in hell. The days were scattered like leaves, their meetings unpredictable and at the worst [or best, depending on the views] possible times. Personally, he had thought they for most part, were on good days. Days that made them connect, rather than every day situations. He had always, minus one occasion, found her at her worst, and that had always seemed like a blessing, a chance to help her. To love her. And for her to love him back.

Ten years he tried and tried to forget her. But even so, in ten years, he never could. He made his mask and wore it. Choosing to hide the aching pain tearing at his soul by trying to find a replacement. He'd gone from lover to lover and not one of them had replaced the emptiness in his heart. He had tried, gods know he had tried to let go. As much as it was unlike him to do so, he tried. For her sake, and his. It was ridiculous, to feel this way for someone who probably never felt even a fraction of what he felt for her, for him. In fact, he wasn't sure if she had ever truly known the depth of how he felt. Exactly how much he had loved her. It wouldn't have surprised him if she didn't. She did, however, know that he had feelings towards her. But most likely had dismissed them, using them as an outlet she desperately needed, rather than a prospect of eternal happiness. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him, she had been the victim of loves gone wrong. She was guarded; for herself and for her son.

Her son... He almost didn't recognize him when he first saw him again. _Almost..._ If he had been even a bit more unobservant, he would have missed the older boy that had been in front of him. He was different obviously; no longer the little boy who had been screaming his lungs off in Central Park. Spawn of the devil he had called him. But who could blame him? The child was loud enough to wake the dead. Hell, he was sure even those in the dark depths of Tartarus had heard him wailing. Then again, to the child and his mother's defense, they had somewhat secluded themselves from everyone. Distanced themselves far enough so that they wouldn't have bothered anyone. In a way, it was his own fault that he had found them. _His own fault..._ Sometimes he wished he could just play that moment all over again; prevent it from ever happening. He knew the saying, how it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Gods know he knew it. But frankly, he thought it was complete and utter bullshit. Whoever had said that couldn't have possibly loved. How could they? Did they not feel the emptiness in their hearts? The aching feeling of loneliness? Or the envy over your lost love, when everyone else had their happy ending? Or was the person who said that referring to a deceased lover? If so, then that was a different story. A story that had no place with him.

When everything had gone sour, he was at lost. For days he sat by himself, just staring, wondering, mourning. Anger rushed through him, his pride had been injured -- mutilated. But he couldn't do anything to her -- to_ her_. Granted her son was off limits, but other things weren't. He was about to make her life a turmoil, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had loved before, harder than most gods. But he had never loved like this. There was no way he could do anything to cause her pain, so he just decided to take it out on everyone else. He wonder if she knew that the at the time recent catastrophic events were from him. Most likely... she was a bright woman. She definitely knew. But while remorseful that it was all because of her, she couldn't just abandon everything and go back. She wouldn't have been happy. And that just pissed him off more.

As the turmoil continued, Aphrodite had found out. He never did tell her the specifics, but she knew. She was the goddess of love; he didn't have to tell her, she saw it written clearly on his face. She saw it in his actions, his manners. She might as well have been reading a book. He hadn't sought her out, but gods know he wanted to. He wanted anything to have his love in his arms... _anything_. Even if it meant selling his soul to Aphrodite. Eventually, he caved. He had to ask her, he just _had_ to. So he did. He had asked her to make his love stay with him. To make her feelings intensify to match his... to make her his own. She was notorious for sticking her nose into others love lives and not to mention, for the right price, granted them their deepest desires. But for the first time in his life, he saw saw fear of Aphrodite's face. Aphrodite... the gossip of Olympus, the most meddlesome goddess alive, was afraid. Afraid of what he would do, that his obsession was unhealthy._ You're not in love, you're obsessed, _she had told him. But beneath the fear, was amusement. This was her love story of the century, millennium probably.

Everything was set. Everything in place. Aphrodite hadn't outright granted him his wish, she still wanted to make sure she had her love story. But of course, nothing every went his way. As soon as it was to be set in motion, Hera had popped her heinous head into the situation. She was afraid of his behavior, yes, but the fact that his love was married, had been enough to cover her fear._ Never, this shall not happen as long as I am Queen of Heaven._ And that was it, it was final. Hell hath no fury than when Apollo heard the words come out of her mouth. _How dare you?_ he had yelled. He was livid.

Everyone on Olympus knew something was wrong. That much was obvious. They also knew that it had something to do with love. But no one had dared tried to talk to him. It was Aphrodite's turf... and the fact that Hera had made it her business, just made the situation worse. He knew why they feared involvement... even his father's. While Zeus wanted to stand, and eventually did, by his wife's side, it was a dangerous thing. Yes, Zeus was the strongest and unchallenged, but Apollo was the most reckless and cunning. Not to mention the favorite of Poseidon. Apollo knew he had a notorious temper and a flair for envy. No one was above his behavior, not even his own sister. After Orion, everyone knew he was serious. His facade of stupidity was brought to light and no one dared draw it out. The last thing they wanted was his vengeance. They knew he was no fool... far from it.

Athena may be the wisest, but Apollo was the snake. He had tricked his own sister easily -- the very same sister that was as perceptive as Athena herself. Trickery was not Hermes, it was his. Along with envy, pride, and rebellion. Apollo was no angel, his past actions had proved that. He was the worst, most likely, easily betraying trusts for his own means. Artemis would have never thought he would have done something like that -- he was her brother, her _twin_. She trusted him with her life. But he had, and not with one once of remorse following. Pride was his helmet, envy his belt, rebellion his breastplate, obsession his arch, and trickery his bow. Most people forgot -- but they remembered, usually too late.

His sister... Many nights he wondered why she didn't hate him. How could she not? He had tricked her into killing the one person she would probably ever love. If it were him, he would have been out for blood. He still hated Hera for her interference. But she hadn't been. That was what had calmed him in the end, his sister. If she could handle it, maybe he could. Not likely, he was more rash, but for his sister, he tried. He knew though, he saw, the gleam of justice and happiness in her eyes when Zeus decided the final verdict. It was her revenge. He knew she had never held it against him, wanting to forget, rather than dwell. But it was only natural when he was left broken like her, for her to feel some sort of happiness. She tried to help him though, because of how much it hurt him, but she would never give it her all. As much as she didn't want to withhold, her emotions were not letting him go that easily. He understood... he had not expected anything less.

And then that was it. The decision made, all Apollo could do was watch. Watch as her life moved on, and tried to mimic hers just a bit. He just wanted a bit of peace from the whole ordeal. Peace, he was going to have it, no matter the cost. But yet, years had passed, and he never got it. No matter what he tried, he just never could. And little by little, his mask took mold and hardened and he lived his lie like it was only natural. But he never forgot. The mask had cracks, not visible for people, but visible for him. He felt it, the cold feeling of exposure, the feeling that would never truly go away. There was only one way to get over it, and that was to take off the mask. But he would never do it. He would brave the cracks, for he knew he could never handle the torrent. Never. And if he could, he wasn't willing, not yet.

Apollo looked up, surveying the empty park. It had taken him quite some time to get here, but he had arrived. The place were it all started... the beginning of it all. The beginning of his love... and the ending of everything as he knew it.

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Okay... what did you think? Like it/Love it/Hate it? Sorry, my baby brother was messing with the computer while I was logged on FF and he accidentally deleted the story ~_~ Little monster...  
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****Important: I've decided to use my perception of Apollo's original mold for my story, not the happy go lucky idiot that RR portrays him. Yes, Apollo can be seen as all of what I said, if you wikipedia him and see and the stuff he did and how he was almost sent to Tartarus once lol So yeah, if you were expected the idiot, he's not going to be here.**

**In attempt to break away from the horrors of Percabeth, I've decided to write this in order to shake things up. Apollo has always been my favorite, so it's really no surprise that I decided to use him. Sally however, just seemed to fit the mold perfectly. Thus, "Love, Lost" was born. The story will be a 7 shot (?) I don't know. All I know is that the story will have seven chapters in all. So does that make it a regular story?**

**Yes, the pairing will be Sally/Apollo.**

**Just a little thing about the story. It will be a prologue, five chapters, and an epilogue. The prologue and the epilogue are all present day, whereas the five chapters are all past. Anyway, during the fic it was stated that it took 5 days for Apollo to fall in love. The next five chapters will be those 5 days. Of course, the days aren't consecutive. I think you should know this... I changed it from the original 3 days to make it more believable.**

**Okay, that's all for me. **

**R&R!**


	2. Day One: Cry on My Shoulder

** Love, Lost  
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**by. KayCelestine**

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** Day One  
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**.x Cry on My Shoulder x.  
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_I know what you've been going through_  
_Tears of pain are falling down_  
_It hurts so bad you're crying out_  
_You're problems won't last forever_  
_Let me put you back together_

_Come here and cry on my shoulder_  
_I'll hold you 'till it's over_  
_I'll rescue you tonight_

- "Cry on My Shoulder" by Overflow

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**July, 1996**

Apollo strolled around aimlessly.

_Thank the gods_, he thought to himself, _a break!_

Most people didn't know it, but he had the most important job of all the gods. Well, in his opinion anyway. Okay maybe it might not have been the most important job, but it was certainly up there. One thing about it though, it most definitely was the most demanding. Unlike the other gods, he didn't have the luxury of taking a day off. If he did, the world would be in complete darkness... and havoc. The moon wouldn't be able to shine because the sun had not been risen, crime and panic would flood through the world. It was his duty, and burden, to raise the sun every morning and lower it every evening. He just couldn't _not_ do it. Gods know how much hell that would raise.

Apollo smiled at the thought. "At least for now I won't have to worry about that," he said softly to himself. Walking along, he gazed around, thriving in the bustling noises of the city. The noises were life -- they were what he was all about, and he was more than happy. Usually his only breaks were at nights, which is why he was always seen at some form of night show or club; day time escapades were not his thing. He chuckled at the thought, considering he was the _sun_ god after all.

"Hey mister!" he heard a small voice call. Turning, he saw a small boy, somewhere around seven, waving at him. A bit surprised, Apollo pointed to himself, to make sure that he was who the boy was talking too. The boy nodded, his tousle of brown hair shaking vigorously on top of his head. "Sorry to bother you," he called back, "but can you throw that ball to us?"

Apollo turned to see what they were talking about. _Ball?_ Then he saw the shiny little red ball gleaming a few feet from him. Walking over to it, he picked it up and threw it back at the little boy. The boy grinned widely; "Thanks mister," he waved as he ran to rejoin his friends.

Apollo found himself smiling at the retreating figure of the little boy; he reminded him of one of his younger sons. The name escaped him, but he definitely reminded him of the kid. Apollo looked to where the boy had run into: Central Park, the sign said. He shrugged, deciding to walk inside the park; he had nothing better to do. Well actually he did, but he had gotten this sudden urge to walk into the park. Maybe it was the boy, or the torrent of laughter that emitted from the park; he didn't know, but went inside anyway.

The giddiness that was in the park rushed at him like a wave; apparently there was some sort of show going on. "Come on," he heard a little girl giggle to her mother. _How cute_, he thought, not in anyway referring to the child. He eyed the mother flirtatiously, watching her with attentive eyes. It wasn't long though, before a man formed besides her, signaling that she was taken. Apollo rolled his eyes, _She was too old for me anyway._

Apollo obviously liked his women young, new, for lack of a better word. And single. Unlike the other gods, he preferred not to go after married women, it was much too and far too complex. Simplicity was what he loved. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that.

Finding a decent little spot, he sat and looked at the people passing him by. He sat there, quiet and observing, eyes fixated with awe as he watched the people go about their normal routines and lives. As a god, he never really _saw_. Yes, technically he saw everything, but he never really actually got to examine what he was looking at. It was confusing and at the same time, utterly mesmerizing.

Time ticked by, creeping along as every action was slowed by his attentiveness. Under normal circumstances, it would have sped up, but his focus had brought everything to almost slow motion -- the soft footsteps as the children ran, every word that was uttered, the sneezes, every little subtle action, nothing went unseen in the eyes of this god. But as soon as Apollo had gotten lost in the details, he had gotten bored with them. They were interesting, they still were, but they had lost their novelty for the moment. Apollo needed vibrancy, and ever changing things. Park life was a bit too constant for his taste. Getting up, he brushed himself off, lazily stretching as he tried to escape the noise. The god who was always around noise (in some form or another) had decided to opt for the gentle quiet. With a final glance, he looked back at the people before walking off.

Apollo knew he still had a few hours, but something was pulling him away from the crowd. He walked and walked, further and further from the noise. Soon the noise was nothing but a distant sound from him. The sound however, was soon replaced by a soft wailing. Curious, he looked up in the direction of the noise. Without thinking, he began to walk in that direction. The sound was faint, inaudible to anyone but an immortal, but it was there. As he walked, the sound gradually got louder. However, after the first fifteen minutes, he realized exactly how far away the sound was. But he couldn't stop, for all he knew, he could be almost there. That soon changed. He _knew_ when he was finally there; after about another ten minutes, he came across the wailing -- and by gods, he was nearly taken back.

The screams pierced the air; so loud that if Apollo wasn't used to the noise, he would have long covered his ears. _Shit_, he thought cringing, _everyone in Tartarus could probably hear this_. The only thing separating him and the noise was a thick bush. Apollo felt his curiosity pique. He gingerly parted the bush, allowing some headway, to see what could possibly be making this noise, .

A tousle of raven hair was what first greeted him, followed by tiny flailing fists and a red face. "Spawn of Hades", he said under his breath, the words slipping from his throat. The boy was young, no more than three at most. There was nothing really to note about him -- after all, his features were marred by his behavior. The screaming had taken its toll, covering his face in a blanket of red, and what wasn't red, was black; his hair and his shirt that so fittingly read "My Name Is: Trouble". Apollo chuckled slightly at the irony of that. Names were powerful -- mortals really needed to understand that.

"Sweetie, _please_, tell mommy what's wrong?"

Apollo looked to the voice, forgetting that the child must have some form of guardian.

It was a face that he would never forget -- the soft curve of her face, the gentleness in her eyes, the soft flush in her cheeks -- it was surprising that he had seen all those, the softer side of her, when in truth she had been frazzled and desperate. Upon closer look, he noticed: the flat hair clinging to her face, swamping her; her eyes exhausted, pleading; and her skin pale and the flush, clearly from the blood rushing violently to her cheeks.

To be honest, he hadn't known what he was doing at all; not until, that is, he was standing in front of the little boy, hands fixed and eyes stern. The little boy apparently wasn't paying too much attention to crying, because as soon as Apollo had stood in front of him, he stopped and looked up. "Enough," Apollo said, voice low, stern, but not enough to scare the little boy. The little boy gazed up at him with deep green eyes; eyes that Apollo should have recognized right away.

The little boy balled his fists and with a huff, crossed them on his chest. "No," his small voice said defiantly, his lower lip trembling slightly. Then, as soon as he said this, he started to wail once more. Apollo just stood there, shocked at the sudden mood change, and a bit scared. The boy knelt there on the floor, shamelessly wailing and showing no signs of stopping. It was obvious that he wasn't scared of Apollo in the slightest, but he did know, apparently, that crying was an excellent way to get what you wanted.

Apollo stood there, his mind racing. He fingered with his necklace, an old habit, as he thought of what to do to make the toddler shut up. It was then it dawned on him, his necklace. For a moment he hesitated; the necklace had been a gift from his sister, Artemis, and he knew she wouldn't take too kindly about him giving it away. "Here," he said, reaching towards the little boy. The boy stopped for a moment, chest still heaving from the violent crying, but looked. Apollo opened his palm, revealing a small golden shimmering orb. The boy's mouth formed a small "oh".

"This is for you," Apollo said, kneeling with the boy, "but only if you be good." The little boy wasted no time, nodding his tiny head vigorously in agreement. Gingerly, he took the orb from Apollo's hand, eyes fixed in awe. With the orb in his hands, the boy calmed -- barely recognizable from the force which he was before. Apollo would never know what had possessed him to give away his beloved necklace, or even why he had cared about the kid that much... hell, he barely cared about his own children. Okay, that was a lie; he loved his children, but he didn't run to them with shiny accessories whenever they cried.

"We can't accept that."

Apollo turned. He had completely forgotten about the young mother. He face her, taking a good look at her. Her chest heaved lightly, as she tried to catch her breath. If he had to guess, she had used up a good amount her energy trying to calm the boy. To be honest, she looked like she had just finished fighting a war. Damn, the boy was good. If he was this much of a handful when he was this small, he would hate to see what he would be like when he got older. Apollo chuckled inwardly, he would definitely have to check up on this boy in the future.

She evened her speech. "Thank you," she started softly; her voice, though tired, was warm and soft. "_Thank you_, you have no idea how grateful I am, but he can't keep that," she said as she eyed the boy on the ground. He sat there, quietly inspecting the necklace and unnaturally gently, as if he knew that this was not an average toy. "It looks expensive, which I know it is. We-"

Apollo cut her off, "It is expensive, and very precious too. But if I could afford to buy such a thing and _give it away_, then surely I can buy another one like it, can't I?" He flashed her his signature sly smile. "Plus, now that he has it, I doubt he'll be willing to give it back... not without a fight anyway. He'd start his fit all over again; now, you don't want that do you?" The lady paled at his words; the last thing she wanted was him to start crying again... because this time, he most _definitely_ wouldn't stop. Apollo could see her wavering; weighing the options of being polite or being smart. She sighed, "Fine, but we have to make it up someway."

He toyed with her preposition in his head. "If you really feel the need to repay me, then let's hang out for the rest of the evening, until the sunset. You, me, and the little spa-," Apollo caught himself, "_boy_". Common sense told him that she wouldn't like him calling her son a spawn of Hades. "I'm Paul," he said. He never really liked to reveal his identity as Apollo, ancient Greek god, when he first met someone. That little fact usually waited until his fling was expecting. So "Paul" was the name Apollo most commonly used. "Sally Jackson," she said, "and this is my son, Perseus, Percy for short." The little boy looked up at the sound of his name and waved his tiny hands in greeting. Cute.

"So, shall we?" Apollo asked rhetorically, taking her hands.

"No!" she cried, pulling her arm back. It was then that Apollo really saw it... the true state of what she was in. She looked at him, eyes determined but weak; so, so very weak. It was as if she had finally had enough with everything, and his small gesture was the final thing to set her off. It was always the smallest things that tipped the scale. Her lower lip quivered as gentle tears started to flow from her eyes as she stood in front of him. Apollo stood there, shocked and confused. He had done nothing wrong.

For a moment, she looked just as shocked as he did, but then it went. She stood there, fists clenched and cried. Apollo stood there uncomfortably. _What the hell am I supposed to do?_ he thought to himself. He didn't even know what made her cry in the first place, only that she was clearly overwhelmed. How was he to comfort her, when he didn't even know what was bothering her?

So he did nothing.

He stood there, watching her as she silently cried. The little boy, Percy, played quietly on the floor, oblivious to what was happening around him. Apollo eventually found himself next to the boy and decided to play with him. He looked up periodically every 30 seconds to Sally; just to check up on her. And every time he did, she was the same... she simply stood there, crying away. It was only a few minutes, but to him, it felt like an eternity. But he knew he had to leave her alone; he may not have the slightest clue what was going on with her, but he knew that she needed to get it out of her system. She was having a meltdown; one that apparently had been boiling for some time. Apollo could honestly say that he had no clue what he was doing at that point... no clue why he _cared_. But he did.

"I'm-"

Apollo didn't bother to look up. "Why? Why are you apologizing?" As soon as the words came out, he looked up. She stared down at him, shocked and slightly ashamed. She stuttered as she tried to find the right words.

He sighed, taking Percy into his arms. He stood up and faced her, Percy in tow. "You need a day off more than I do, so let's go." His voice startled him. He had never used that tone before. Never had he heard himself speak so firmly, so in control. Yes he's made commands before, but those were different. Those commands were him either yelling, or showing his authority. This tone was entirely different. In fact, he couldn't even describe it. It was angry, or remotely annoyed... it just _was_.

She nodded softly, but said nothing. The two stared at each other, both tense, and both confused. Percy looked around, finally sensing something was amiss. His tiny fingers were frozen around the necklace as he took in the scene he was in the middle of. He stared for a few seconds at his mother, and then at the stranger holding him. With a sly smile, he tugged on Apollo's shoulder. The tiny touch broke Apollo's gaze, as he looked down at the little boy.

Percy giggled, one set of fingers still grasped on the shirt. "I cream?" he asked, his green orbs gazing innocently into Apollo's.

Apollo nodded, "Sure." He had previously been at a lost for how to take a break, and the idea of ice cream seemed like a great way to start. Percy clapped his hands and giggled, happy at the decision. Apollo simply smiled... there was something special about this boy. As a god of truth, and being bound by it, Apollo had long since found ways to get around the burden of being_ completely_ honest... equivocating, it was called: the art of telling the truth, in a not so truthful way. And from what he was seeing, this little boy was going to eventually get the hang of it. He was already manipulative... using the silence to get what he wanted.

Apollo couldn't stop himself from smirking at the small figure in his arms. "You are really something else, sp- _Percy_." Before anyone could question anything, Apollo grabbed Sally by the hand and pulled her. "Time for ice cream," he chirped. He really, _really_, needed to learn to call that boy by his rightful name, the first time.

Finding an ice cream stand turned out to be insanely easy. As soon as Apollo had managed to pull Sally out of the thickets and into the main area of the park, all he seemed to see were ice cream trucks. Percy laughed, the tiny tinkles of his voice chanting "I cream, i cream, i cream!" He clapped his hands happily, his feet kicking in sync with his clapping. Apollo grimaced as he felt the tiny feet hit him. For a child, no, _a toddler,_ he had so much strength to him. This boy was not natural. And if this was a natural thing, then my gods, the mystery of the survival of the human race was solved.

Percy wiggled in his arms, attempting to make his escape. Apollo pursed his slips, slightly annoyed, "You are such a handful." He loosened his grip a bit, allowing Percy to fall gently to the ground. With his feet barely planted, Percy made his way, or more fittingly, ran to the nearest truck. He leaned against it, looking up at the owner. Within moments, the smiling man handed Percy an ice cream cone, causing the little boy to erupt in a fit of giggles.

Apollo chuckled lightly, '_This kid. I swear to the gods, this kid_'.

"He's going to be hell now, just so you know."

Apollo looked over at Sally, who was looking far more calm and composed (and not to mention relaxed) than she had been previously. "I'm very resilient," she said, answering his question. "And when I do cry, it'll only be for a moment."

"That's not healthy."

She smiled wryly, "But it's me."

He stopped. What was there to say to that? Nothing. There was nothing to say to that. He wasn't Athena; he didn't have any wise words to comfort her. He wasn't Hermes, who could bring a smile to anyone's face. He had nothing; nothing but spare time. He didn't work in comfort, he worked in pleasure, if you got his drift. Sally's expression changed slightly as she turned back to Percy. Her eyes becoming once more burdened and weak. Annoying was filling in Apollo; it was really bothering him that he cared this much. He didn't care for _anything_ -- especially not women he just met.

Apollo's attention was snatched away as he heard running footsteps. Percy was running back to them, three ice cream cones gripped tightly in his hands. Apollo handed Sally a cone, and then took one for himself. "Beach!" Percy squealed happily. Apollo looked down at the boy; today seemed to be more about playing with Percy rather than helping Sally. Sally shrugged, a small smile appearing on her features. "This just might be the only way to calm him down."

"But he's not hyper," Apollo said confused. And that was true. Percy was not doing anything remotely hyper; he was sitting calmly on the ground eating his ice cream. Occasionally he wiped his little hand across his face in an attempt to clean his face of the ice cream. It's safe to say that it didn't work... the ice cream only spreading over his clothes. But it was cute sight to watch.

Sally looked down Percy as she licked her ice cream. "Not yet. Give it a few minutes to kick in." Apollo stared at Percy, placing all his concentration on him. Percy was just sitting there, doing the same thing he was doing a few moments ago. Once in while he looked up at the two adults, flashing a full-grin smile. But other than that, nothing.

"There isn't a beach for miles," Sally eventually threw in. "So I guess we'll just have to stay here."

Apollo kept his eyes trained on Percy. "Why were you crying?" he asked her. It was bold thing to do. He may have only known her for 40 minutes, and that was too short a time to ask someone such a personal question. But it didn't matter, he needed to find out. He didn't know why, but it was bothering him. It was a tiny nagging feeling inside him. He had to know. And he was going to find out.

Sally said nothing. She simply continued to eat her ice cream, completely brushing off his question. Apollo bit his tongue; his anger was beginning to rise within him. He did not like being ignored... flashy god that he was. He needed to be the center attention at the very most, and at the very least, acknowledged. But he quelled his anger... choosing to instead angrily eat his ice cream. It wasn't terribly noticeable, but it was there. The next few moments were nothing but silence; Percy and the other children were the only noise that could be heard. They said nothing to each other, choosing to sit simply in silence.

"Why should I trust you?"

The question had taken Apollo by surprise. He hadn't expected her to answer back, and he certainly had not expected her to ask such a question. But the stark reality was that she was right. She didn't know him, and likewise, he didn't know her. It was really a wonder that she had even tolerated him for this long. He was, as unusual as it sounded, a _stranger_. He honestly did not know what to say to that. What could he possibly tell her? He didn't even know the answer himself.

He looked down, trying his best not to look at her. Apollo opened his mouth and did the one thing he knew, he told her the truth. "I-I don't know." He sighed, turning to face her. "I honestly have no clue why I care. I just don't, but I do. It's so goddamn annoying."

She was silent again... simply staring at him with the same burdened eyes. She turned from him and in the direction of Percy. "I'm 26 and a single mother working on minimum wage. My son is a handful, and will be even more when he grows up. He's never met his father and the last time I saw him was when Percy was born. It's just been me, and frankly, I'm overwhelmed." Her voice broke as she finished. And just like that, she put her face in her hands and started to cry once more. As he watched her, he felt a pang of guilt for making her cry, but she needed to get it out. He had thought that she had gotten it all out before, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. He could see that now.

He rested his hand of her shoulder, and in one fluid motion, he pulled her into an embrace. "I would say I understand, but I don't," he whispered softly into her ear. "So I'll just stay here, and hold you until I can... or at least until I can help." Those were dangerous words, he didn't have the time to hold her for eternity. But they were the right words to say. And if necessary, he would forget his duties, just for one day, or at least hold off as long as he could.

She trembled against his chest. As he held her, he could feel it. In that moment he could feel the pain that she felt. He felt a small press against himself. He turned his head slightly and saw a tousle of black hair. Percy... Percy was hugging her now as well. "Don cwy mommy. I be good," his little voice said.

With his voice came a soft feeling of reassurance. Demeter had always said that children held their own powers -- each having the ability to light up even the darkest of times, and up till now, he had thought she was just delusional. But right here, right now, he understood what she meant. He never thought he would say it, but Demeter was right.

It was a soft moment, a tender moment. It was such a calm feeling, the three of them holding each other. He didn't know how long they sat there, but they just held each other. A while had passed, and it wouldn't have surprised him if an hour had already gone by. But he didn't want to let go, none of them did. Percy's grip on her was as strong as it had been when he first held her. As young as he was, even he knew. Even he knew.

Apollo could feel it, the time drawing near. He had to go soon, but he couldn't. He just couldn't find the strength to. She- _they_ needed him. He still didn't know why his heart ached, but it did; and for once in his life, he was not going to bail on this.

She shuffled slightly on his chest; Percy shuffling in sync as well. "It's getting late," she whispered. "I'm sure you have things to do."

Apollo opened his mouth to protest, but she held her finger over his mouth, stopping him. "Don't say anything. Thank you," she said, her voice laced with gratitude. "You did more today than anyone has ever done for me,_ thank you_." She sat up a bit, coming off of him. Her hair fell over her face messily, but her eyes were different. They may have been red, but they were more lively.. less burdened.

Apollo said nothing, nodding gently. He understood. He knew exactly what she meant. He stood up, saying his goodbyes to Percy. He knew that it would probably be a while before he saw the boy again -- if he ever did. Percy held his hands up, waving his goodbyes vigorously, flashing his trademarked full-faced grin.

Apollo turned to leave, but stopped. He turned around, facing Sally once more. "Promise me, promise that the next time I see you, you'll smile for me. A real genuine smile."

Sally nodded her head softly. "I promise," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper. But he heard it, and that was enough. He was the god of truth and he knew that from the moment the words escaped her mouth, she would honor her promise. He gave her a final nod before leaving, and then he was gone.

That sunset, as he rode across the sky, she was all he could think of; the young mother and her son. Hours later he still could not find the case of his concern, so he just stopped. He would want the answer eventually, but for now, he would just let it be. Riding through the sky, he had one solace -- he could still feel the warmth of her against his chest, and the soft feeling of Percy on his arm. And for now, that was his comfort. The feeling of the crying young mother, and her force of a child. He knew he would never forget them. All he could think about was one thing, the next time he would see them.

For the first time in a long time, he had something to look forward to.

* * *

**Whew, it's been a while, but I finally finished. So what do you think? I really hoped you liked it. I changed this so many times, but I'm finally satisfied with the results. **

**For those who have waited patiently, I'm sorry for the wait, and thankful for your support. I promise that next time the next chapter will be up sooner than this was. I also want to thank those that reviewed -- I really appreciate it.  
**

**I can't really think of what to say now, so I'll just leave you be. If you have any questions, just ask. I'll be happy to answer :) Goodbye till next time. **

**R&R, s'il vous plait!  
**


	3. Author's Note: Important

Well...

Hello, anyone who might be out there. It's been a while, no doubt. For some a year, for some two years... but I just wanted to drop this simple note. I know I've said this plenty of times, only to renege on my promise, that **I will update my stories**.

I promise this time will be different.

This time I will update this story. Granted if might happen more on a biweekly or monthly basis (I have other commitments, stories, issues that I have to attend to), but I solemnly swear that I will update this story. And if or when I get burned out from the hectic business of juggling college, family, my health and writing, I will leave a note informing you about my brief hiatus -_which will never be longer than a mont_h-.

If there are still any fans out there of this particularly story, I sincerely and wholly apologize for my thoughtlessness. Your support meant, **means**, the world to me, and I completely betrayed your loyalty by throwing my writing priorities under the bus.

Please, forgive me.

As for the update of this story itself - it should come up by next month (as in 30 or so days from now and not two week -or maybe two weeks depending on the story-).

*On the off chance that I take a bit too long to update, my PM system is up. You have_ full and total permission_ to harass the living daylights out of me till I update.

Thank you and I apologize once more.

-Kay


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